"Exactly, Tom Morse. Haven't you rather taken the poor fellow for granted?" She felt an unexpected blush burn into her cheek. It stained the soft flesh to her throat. For she was discovering that the nonsense begun so lightly was embarrassing. She did not want to talk about the feelings of Tom Morse toward her. "It's all very well to joke, but--" "Shall I ask him?" he teased. She flew into a mild near-panic. "If you dare, Win Beresford!" The flash in her eyes was no longer mirth. "We'll talk about something else. I don't think it's very nice of us to--to--" "Tom retired from conversational circulation," he announced. "Shall we talk of cats or kings?" "Tell me your plans, now you've been promoted." "Plans? Better men make 'em. I touch my hat, say, 'Yes, sir,' and help work 'em out. Coming back to Tom for a minute, have you heard that the Colonel has written him a letter of thanks for the distinguished service rendered by him to the Mounted and suggesting that a permanent place of importance can be found for him on the Force if he'll take it?" "No. Did he? Isn't that just fine?" The soft glow had danced into her eyes again. "He won't take it, will he?" "What do you think?" His eyes challenged hers coolly. He was willing, if he could, to discover whether Jessie was in love with his friend. "Oh, I don't think he should," she said quickly. "He has a good business. It's getting better all the time. He's a coming man. And of course he'd get hard jobs in the Mounted, the way you do." "That's a compliment, if it's true," he grinned. "I dare say, but that doesn't make it any safer." "They couldn't give him a harder one than you did when you sent him into the Barrens to bring back West." His eyes, touched with humor and yet disconcertingly intent on information, were fixed steadily on hers. The girl's cheeks flew color signals. "Why do you say that? I didn't ask him to go. He volunteered." "Wasn't it because you wanted him to?" "I should think you'd be the last man to say that," she protested indignantly. "He was your friend, and he didn't want you to run so great a risk alone." "Then you didn't want him to go?" "If I did, it was for you. Maybe he blames me for it, but I don't see how _you_ can. You've just finished telling me he saved your life a dozen times." "Did I say I was blaming you?" His warm, affectionate smile begged pardon if he had given offense. "I was just trying to get it straight. You wanted him to go that time, but you wouldn't want him to go again. Is that it?" "I wouldn't want either of you to go again. What are you driving at, Win Beresford?" "Oh, nothing!" He laughed. "But if you think Tom's too good to waste on the Mounted, you'd better tell him so while there's still time. He'll make up his mind within a day or two." "I don't see him. He never comes here." "I wonder why." Jessie sometimes wondered why herself. CHAPTER XLII THE IMPERATIVE URGE